


Left Behind

by gyruum



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-26
Updated: 2006-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:04:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyruum/pseuds/gyruum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Madame President? You wanted to see me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Behind

It had rolled to the back of her desk drawer, hiding behind a box of ink pens and stationary. Collateral, Kara had called it. A tangible treasure Laura could hold onto as if Kara's heart wasn't enough. It was her promise to return. The words tasted bitter upon reflection. Laura hadn't considered that Kara would return to the fleet but not to these quarters, leaving her feeling quite the fool. Something had changed Kara on Caprica, something she would never explain if she hadn't by now. The empty hours waiting for a simple visit soon overshadowed the evenings they'd shared here, and Laura had almost forgotten she had the cigar holder at all. She might have laughed at the rediscovery if it wasn't so damn sad. She'd never taken the time to really look at the case before, the hundreds of nicks and imperfections in the smooth stainless steel that weren't noticeable from a distance. The simple accessory was more a testament to Kara's character than Laura had realized. And now, months since Kobol, the memory of Kara in her arms had faded like the shine of silver, more dulled than tarnished. Muted and faded away. Lost in the back of a drawer. The Arrow of Apollo had been a parting gift, and the beloved cigar holder was simply a piece of herself Kara would rather live without than come back for.

"Madame President?"

Laura dropped the cigar holder, startled.

"You wanted to see me?" Tory continued from the doorway, waiting for permission to fully enter the room.

"Yes, yes, come in," Laura said, putting it back in the drawer as quickly as would not seem out of place. "Close the door behind you."

"I didn't know you smoked," Tory said casually as she turned back around. Laura's glasses were now resting by her folded hands.

"I don't." She paused momentarily. "It was a gift."

"I guess they didn't do their homework." Tory took her common seat in the front row and opened her leather padfolio with the latest polling data. "We just got the latest numbers in about an hour ago. You're still six points up in the polls, and with the debate--"

"I didn't ask you here for a report; save it for the morning press," Laura said quietly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I asked you here because we're still getting to know one another, and I'm not sure I have completely impressed upon you the commitment and dedication this position requires."

"Madame President, I can assure you that no one in this fleet is more committed to securing your reelection than I am," Tory replied.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. You've been everything I've needed and more. I'm truly grateful for all the hard work you do, I am. But beyond that, I need to know," Laura said slowly, "that you're committed to me."

Tory seemed slightly confused. "Madame President, did I do something that--"

"No, no, nothing like that." Laura smiled warmly. "I just..." She pursed her lips, thinking. "Sometimes it's nice to have a little reassurance."

Tory relaxed, closing her padfolio with a soft pop. "I think we've all felt pretty lonely up here," she said sympathetically.

Laura let that sit for a moment, fully aware how selfish it was to mourn separation from someone alive in the fleet when Tory had lost her partner of six years in the attacks. Knowing Kara was within arm's length made it that much harder to let her go, and Laura chided herself for silently wishing Kara had never come back from Caprica at all. The Arrow was critical to their survival; she knew that better than anyone. But for Kara to leave behind her affections, as if she only had room to stow one or the other away, seemed a harsh price to pay. Laura wanted desperately to move forward with her life, to feel her heart race again under the once mutinous breast. For months she'd simply floated with the ship, involuntarily drifting with inertia and no cause to change course. The day she met Tory, all that had changed.

Laura stood without taking her eyes off Tory's and walked around the desk to meet her, stomach inches from Tory's face when she stopped. Tory held her stare as she rose, meeting Laura's gesture like a card game bid. Though Laura was an inch taller, she could feel Tory's breathing against her chin. Eyes searching every inch of Laura's face for a sign, Tory's head tilted and began sliding forward. Laura grabbed her arm abruptly in a clear order to stop, never lowering her eyes.

Tory retreated and look away apologetically, "I'm sorry, sir, that was completely out of line. I shouldn't--"

Laura took Tory's chin in her hand and turned it front again, pulling her in for a long, smooth kiss. Tory tasted exactly as Laura had imagined, sweet and strong, as soft as she was self-assured. Releasing the hold on Tory's hand, she dug her fingers into the thick, dark hair, bringing Tory in closer with every parting of her lips. Tory reached her arms around Laura's body and held her tightly, one hand on her shoulder, one on Laura's lower back. Soon Tory's mouth found its way to Laura's ear and neck, canvassing down to every inch more hungrily than the last. Laura mused that if Tory could show the same thoroughness to the voting demographics, her reelection was in the bag.

As Tory swept down along Laura's collarbone, she reached around back for Laura's zipper only to be stopped again.

"Perhaps I've been unclear as to how you can prove your commitment to me," Laura said with some concern.

Tory looked even more confused than ever, too frightened to fail again but certain her intentions weren't entirely misguided. Laura carefully unfastened each of Tory's buttons with methodical attentiveness, tending to each one like the proposed bills on her desk. She watched as Tory's suit slowly fell away, hugging each curve as it slid slowly down. Tory looked as dignified in her black lingerie as she did during a press conference.

Laura ran her eyes up and down the slender body several times before saying, "lie down on the desk."

Tory passed her and sat on the edge, leaning back slowly, watching the President's eyes drop as she lowered herself back.

"Turn over," Laura said.

It was a command like any other the President of the Colonies gave throughout her term. Tory's slight hesitation seemed to stem from excitement more than fear, as the shine on her inner thighs unwittingly gave away. She stood slowly and rolled against the edge of the desk, shaky hands reaching to hold the far side. She didn't say a word.

Laura stepped forward now, tracing her fingers along Tory's spine, digging her nails into the soft skin laid out before her. She unhooked Tory's bra with a quick flick of one hand, tossed it aside, and moved in closer. Reaching both hands around, she took Tory's nipples between her middle and ring fingers, tugging hard as she pressed against Tory's body. Laura rocked her gently, squeezing tighter as Tory moaned beneath her.

She had done this once with Kara, of course, though the results had been quite different. Lieutenant Thrace was not someone to be kept down, but Tory was becoming all the more excited the harder Laura held her down. She let go of Tory's right breast for a moment to run a finger down her side along the edge of black silk. She let her hand drop between her own legs, reaching forward under Tory to lightly trace a line along the damp material, dragging her finger across the hard nub straight back and up.

" _Gods_ ," Tory whispered, pressing her forehead against the wood surface to fight the tension. "Please."

"Stop talking," said Laura, pushing her left hand against Tory's lower back to keep her down. "You have undertaken a serious position in this government," she continued, running her finger back down the line again. "And now we will find out if you are truly up to the task."

Laura hooked her index fingers under the elastic band and pulled it down, face as stern as ever. The only thing she took more seriously than politics was education, and this was a lesson of the highest order. She ran both hands firmly up and down Tory's back as if it were her final destination, as if the woman wasn't naked and sweating desperately all over Laura's mail and reminder notes.

Sliding her hands down to Tory's hips, Laura pulled her closer, moving Tory several inches backward off the desk. Tory gripped the edge tighter, more to offset what she knew was coming than afraid she might fall. But as she braced for the teasing touch again, Laura simply stepped away and circled around to the other side of the desk. Tory heard a drawer slide open and the sound of rummaging, but knew now not to ask. She exhaled deeply as the drawer closed, clenching her toes into the carpet as she waited impatiently.

"I need to know," Laura said, "that you can handle whatever the press may throw at you, whatever the polls may tell you." She retraced her finger along the familiar line, now with nothing between her skin and Tory's ache. "Or whatever I give you."

With a push, she slid her finger hard into the wet folds, running alongside Tory's throbbing clit and pinching it as she slid by. Tory bucked against her will, clinging to the desk for dear life as Laura worked her harder and faster with each pass. She pressed her free hand firmly into Tory's blushing left cheek, mindful not to stain her dress as she steadied her rhythm. Without warning, Laura drew her hand back several inches and drove two fingers deep inside. Tory gasped again, whimpering with the need to cry out and the exhilaration of being denied it.

"Be quiet," Laura said, hooking the tender inside wall with her fingertips. "Your job is harder than this, Tory; I think you know that."

Tory nodded twice against the surface, eyes squeezed shut but mouth open wide.

Laura picked up the cigar holder from a stack of papers on the desk and examined it carefully, never slowing or removing her right hand. She wondered if Kara had used it to frak women, or merely used it to frak with their hearts. She wondered if Kara ever intended _them_ to use it, or if Kara knew she would always have been on the receiving end had she tried. Kara never understood Laura, not completely, which may have explained why Kara was ships away and Tory was now writhing around Laura's talented fingers. If anything, Kara had left behind a reminder of why they never would have worked. She left behind the resolve Laura needed to push onward. It was empowering, the ability to create passion from her pain, even with something so simple as a cigar holder.

With one smooth motion, Laura slid her fingers out and the silver case in, mindful of the downward angle necessary to reach the right places. Tory moaned louder, banging one fist against the desk and holding the edge again. It might have seemed an act of non-consent had she not thrusted back against the steel, taking in another two inches. Laura reclaimed her hold on Tory's lower back with her left hand, working the holder slowly out and then sharply in repeatedly. It slid easily, as Laura knew it would, and the only thing more intoxicating than Tory's wetness was the smell of it. Laura pushed harder, holding the base tightly as she moved, determined not to let go. She stepped forward and pressed her body against the base, deepening the thrusts with her weight. She had no interest in imitating men, but she seized any opportunity to feel her lover's pleasure stem from the source of her own arousal.

Tory's breathing quickened, keeping time with Laura's pumping. Tory turned her face into the desktop to focus her energy on making this last as long as possible, which Laura took as a sign of weakness. Putting space between their two bodies again, she moved her left hand back to Tory's pulsing clit, rubbing in time with her right hand. Less than a minute later, Tory screamed as she came and almost fell over when her knees gave out. Laura held her up, pressing the flat of her left hand against Tory to calm her as she slowly removed the cigar holder. Tory rolled over on the desk after Laura let go, face shining with sweat and tears. Laura set the holder on the desk and stepped forward, wrapping one arm under Tory to pull her up into a deep, tender kiss.

Laura searched for a hand towel while Tory dressed, and tucked the cigar holder neatly inside a fold before placing it back in the drawer. She realized in that moment that she had missed the point. Reclaiming the case was never Kara's intention; it was a symbol of what they had meant to each other. Kara had given Laura a piece of her own strength to keep safely hidden away whenever and however she needed it. In a way, this was probably what Kara would have wanted.

She sat down and put her glasses back on, watching Tory nervously button her suit. Laura could tell she was swimming in things she wanted to say, but knew better than to give her the chance.

"Thank you for stopping by," she said, moving a stack of papers to where Tory's panting face had been moments before.

Tory hesitated and bit her lip before replying firmly, "it was my pleasure, sir."

Laura let her get three steps from the door before adding, "in the future, you'll have to work for it," without looking up from her papers.

"Yes, Madame President."


End file.
